


Cheap Shots

by dirtyicicles



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Drinking, Galra Keith (Voltron), M/M, Porn With Plot, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2016-11-18
Packaged: 2018-08-28 21:40:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8463985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirtyicicles/pseuds/dirtyicicles
Summary: Keith's a dancer, and a pretty good one at that. Shiro's a troubled man riddled with bad memories and regrets. What could go wrong?





	

**Author's Note:**

> you know those ideas you get right before you fall asleep? Yeah, this is one of those. Welcome to another guilty pleasure.

**I.**

The man _glittered._

****

Shiro caught sight of him in the low light, the subtle sparkling hugging the man's pale skin in various shades of reds, purples, and pinks, encapsulating him in a shimmering aura that was impossible to take his eyes off of. The glitter climbed along his neck and arms, down his back and settled behind the delicate weaving of fishnets that hugged his slender legs. His hair was long and glossy, his smile contagious, and even if Shiro wasn't actively engaging with him, he couldn't help but smile to himself too. The man just looked so damned happy, perched on his bar stool, nursing a drink while he rested his cheek against the palm of his hand and chatted with the bartender. His shoulders were slouched, a loose shirt hanging over a sequined crop top he could see peeking through on his neck and shoulders. He looked relaxed and at home, and Shiro really didn't want to be the one to interrupt such a strangely serene scene. 

****

"Go talk to him!" a man piped up behind him, making Shiro jump and spin on his heel. He felt like his mind had suddenly been read, but for as long and awkwardly as Shiro had been standing there, it was probably pretty easy to read his intentions. He turned to look at the guy who had spoken and humor him, noting dark skin that was lovingly caressed in light blues--in an outfit similar to the other guy's--that made him really stand out. He already had his arms around a larger man, though, a content smirk on his face as he jerked his head in the direction of the guy Shiro had been looking at. "Seriously, go talk to him. He's not gonna bite ya. Hopefully." 

****

Shiro could feel himself blushing, a knee-jerk reaction he desperately wished would go away. "A-ah, thanks?" he said, offering the man a laugh and a wave of his hand before he awkwardly made his way down the bar. 

****

"Oi, Cherry! Got you a good one!" the man suddenly shouted, causing Shiro to almost trip over himself. 'Cherry' turned a sultry gaze towards the man who had shouted, beautifully plucked and arched brows forming into a frown as the gears seemed to turn in his head.

****

"Blue, you _remember_ what happened the last time you sent a creep my..." Cherry's words wavered once he saw Shiro, and his expression was immediately wiped from his face. Shiro watched as eerily violet eyes looked him up and down from head to toe, glossed fingertips gently setting a glass upon the bar top as Cherry turned his body to face him. "Well," he said, his pink lips forming a smile, "you're quite the looker. I take back what I said; come sit with me, stranger." 

****

Shiro swallowed hard, and his feet felt suddenly like lead in his boots. He was all too aware he was out of his element, with the way he towered over the other dancers and customers alike. Shiro knew he was a bit of a brick house, but everyone in here was just so damn small and _lithe._ Cherry especially so, but up close like this, there was a distinctive ripple of muscle underneath the man's skin that made Shiro's world quickly collapse and weep. He didn't want to be that kind of guy, but Cherry was quickly becoming a love at first sight kind of deal. He wanted to kick himself in the teeth. 

****

"First time here?" Cherry asked, breaking the silence as he leaned his chin atop a hand, his gaze narrowed and looking at Shiro from the corner of his eye, watching him take a seat. "I mean, it's rude of me to assume, but...you look like a first timer. Unless you're someone else's regular." He chuckled, the noise alone sending shivers down Shiro's spine and igniting a flame in his chest. He couldn't help but laugh, a desperate attempt to smother the feeling as he nodded, fingers anxiously rubbing at the back of his neck. 

****

"Ah, yeah...not new to the scene, but new here, at least." He offered Cherry a smile, waving down the barkeep to order a drink. Straight up whiskey on the rocks earned him a quirked brow and an amused huff from his companion. 

****

"You always get shitfaced at strip clubs?" Cherry asked, shooting Shiro a bemused expression over the rim of his own glass. "You're a very trusting man if you do. Especially in a place like this." 

****

Shiro just shrugged, downing his shot with a choked cough. "I-I don't...no, no, I don't. I just...it's been a while." Why he was suddenly so confident at the moment, he didn't know, but he lifted the edge of the glove upon his right hand, and pushed his jacket's sleeve back just enough so he could flash the metal underneath the fabric in the lights. Cherry quirked a brow, his back dipping as he delicately readjusted his posture upon his seat. 

****

"Mm, a bionic man. I see how it is." He winked, finishing off his own drink before he turned to offer Shiro his full attention. "You're coming in here hoping to get a discount, aren't ya sugar?" His tone was teasing, eyes glimmering in the neon lights with a sort of unspoken trust between the two. Maybe that's why Shiro relaxed instead of growing defensive, allowing himself a good-natured laugh as he shook his head. 

****

"God, no. But if you're offering something, I don't think I could pass you up." 

****

Cherry hummed, a finger tapping thoughtfully against the counter top. "Hmm...it was the end of my shift, but...if you're willing to pay, I'm willing to make an exception." 

****

Shiro, elated, was already digging a bill out of his back pocket. Cherry plucked the money between two fingers, the clear polish upon his nails reflecting the many lights and making even them sparkle. Shiro so badly wanted to touch, but the look in Cherry's eye as he got up and gestured for Shiro to follow made him think otherwise. Cherry was a poised, dignified man, from his strong shoulders draped in in an expensive, sequined top, to the bottom of his boots that could be heard even through the music with a commanding echo. For as flashy and red as they were, they sounded heavy with the intent of bashing a skull in. Shiro did not want to be on the wrong end of them. 

****

Cherry stopped short in front a door, snickering softly as Shiro almost rammed into him. "Gotta watch where you're going, big guy," he said, popping the door open and slipping inside the small room before Shiro could even register what was going on. He'd gotten lost in the expanse of Cherry's legs, admired how the fishnets he wore hugged their curves and muscle softly. Once they'd disappeared, Shiro was more than eager to wordlessly follow them behind the door and pray he would be allowed to lose himself between them. 

****

Once the door closed, most of the noise from the club seemed to stifle. It was considerably more quiet, the room itself flush in deep purples and reds, the golden accents on the glass tables and peppered across the floor's tiles glinting in the low, dim mood lighting. The velvet of the chaises and chairs was soft and plush, and they devoured any noise Shiro made as he sat down upon a large lounge that encircled the room. Shiro knew this place wasn't a dump, but the back rooms were fit to be in a palace. Even the walls were covered in lush curtains, golden chains accenting their hems delicately as they swept along the expanse of the room. "I don't suppose I can keep drinking in here, huh?" he laughed awkwardly, his heart in his throat as it hammered loudly in his ears, his gaze looking the room over before it fell on his companion. 

****

"We could," Cherry mused, reaching up behind himself to tie his hair back, "but I want to go home, and you're desperate. If there's a next time, though, I promise we can keep drinking." His voice was an airy promise, his every movement like watching a dancing fire as he pulled the baggy shirt over his head. The sequined top revealed itself in all its glory, accentuating the muscle definition of Cherry's chest and abdomen and making Shiro's chest feel tight. The top was as red as those boots, and Shiro couldn't help but snort softly as he watched Cherry step closer to him, the outfit oddly reminiscent of the man named 'Blue.' 

****

"Do you guys like...color code yourselves in here?" he asked, an awkward stumble into some casual conversation as Cherry flopped gracefully down onto his lap, his thighs hugging Shiro's own and clenching around them. 

****

"You could say that," the man mused, running his hands down Shiro's chest with lidded eyes and puckered lips. "Red's just my favorite color. The Azure Asshole just started copying what I did after I started working here. The others just kinda do whatever." He smiled, tossing his head back to work his bangs out of his eyes, his hips picking up the gradual motion of swaying from side to side, his navel dipping with the occasional, rolling movement he peppered in between. 

****

Shiro's mouth went dry as he watched, a stuttered laugh hitting the back of his teeth as he nuzzled closer to the cushions behind himself. "Been working here for a long time, then?" he asked, dragging his eyes away from Cherry's hips to his eyes, admiring how soft they looked in the low light. They were suddenly so much closer when Cherry wrapped his arms around Shiro's neck, his head rolling to the side thoughtfully as he chewed his lip. Shiro could smell alcohol and something fruity on his breath, and even if Cherry was rubbing his groin against Shiro's thigh, god, he wanted so much _more._

****

"About a year now," he mused, shrugging his shoulders as gently as a rolling wave. "I moved to the city about two years back, and I struggled until I got into the groove of this place. It was a gradual process. I like it here a lot, though." He smiled, reaching out to drag his thumb along Shiro's lips and jaw, down his neck and to his collarbones, his palm pressing against them lightly. He dragged it to the side, his fingers slipping underneath the lapel of Shiro's jacket to push it over, teasing where metal met skin upon his arm. 

****

He was on the defensive, but when Cherry's body was so close to his, smelling like an expensive cologne and drowning his fears in the vague scent of roses and amber, he couldn't complain. "That's funny," Shiro laughed, balling his hands into fists upon the cushions, "you moved in when I was deployed. Kinda makes me wish I never went through with that decision, now." 

****

Cherry quirked a brow, tapping his fingers along the edge of metal, nails teasing at the faint line where it sent bolts of stress and tension through Shiro's chest. It threatened to suffocate, but he swallowed the bile down, instead just following Cherry's gaze as it moved to look at Shiro's arm. "Mm. So that's why my big guy is a bionic man, huh? What'd you do?" 

****

"I was a pilot," Shiro mused, shrugging his shoulders weakly, inwardly relieved when Cherry's hand moved back to his chest, rubbing a sensual, yet comforting pattern against his pectoral. "Just kind of a shit time out there. I was good at what I did, at least."

****

Cherry hummed quietly to himself, leaning back before he slid down Shiro's legs and stood upright. Shiro made to protest, but he was met with the wonderful sight of Cherry's back bending and pushing his ass out into the air as he resumed his slow movements, bent over and swaying from side to side. "What's your name, big guy?" he asked, peering at Shiro over his shoulder, the palms of his hands pressed to Shiro's knees for support as he spread his legs outward. The fact he was nearly completing a perfect split had Shiro thinking unholy thoughts.

****

"Shiro," he breathed, leaning back on instinct as Cherry came to press against him, his slender spine flush against Shiro's broad chest as those hips swirled in slow, sensual movements against his thighs, his groin. "J-just Shiro, for now. Yeah..."

****

"Am I moving too fast for you, Shiro?" Cherry asked, leaning his head beside Shiro's, reaching out to gently cradle his cheek. A fire followed those fingertips along Shiro's skin, and he shook his head, inner conflict flaring in his gut like an internal bruise. He didn't know what he was feeling, truth be told. He came in here to have a good time and earn himself a distraction for the night, and Cherry had been doing a good job of that, at least. He just hadn't expected Cherry to take such an interest in him. 

****

"I'll tell you what, Shiro," Cherry continued, adjusting himself so they were face to face again, Cherry's arms tugging Shiro's face down next to his by the neck. "This is it for you tonight, all right? You had your fun, getting used to all of this again. But it's late, and I think it's time for me and you to go home and get some sleep. I don't know if you noticed, but it is going on five in the morning. Will you do that for me, sweetheart?" Cherry fluttered his eyelashes, picking one of Shiro's hands up from the cushions, gently easing the tension out of his wrist before pressing those sweet, pink lips to the blue veins his fingers had so lovingly traced. "I'll be here. I'm not going anywhere if you want to come back." 

****

Shiro's throat was dry, but it didn't take him any time at all to process that the request had actually been one of pure consideration and thought. "Thanks, for um...for what you did. For me. For...yeah," he laughed awkwardly, digging around in his jacket for his wallet. God, he hadn't even realized just how tense he'd grown over their short period of time together. Cherry must have caught on and realized he'd crossed a line. Shiro bit his lip, hating how easy it was to do that with him these days. "Thank you," he muttered again, his tone apologetic and quiet as he handed Cherry a payment with a hefty tip. It wasn't like payment had even been discussed, but Shiro saw the man's eyes and how they widened for a brief second. Such a beautiful hue of purple...

****

"Hey, no problem," Cherry said, a soft, reassuring coo to his voice as he climbed slowly down from Shiro's lap, hands tracing the muscle of his torso as he moved away. "I'll call you a cab if you need it. Just meet me by the bar when you're ready." 

****

With a kiss pressed to Shiro's cheek and a shirt hiding that gorgeous figure in one fluid motion, his little Cherry was gone just as soon as he'd come into his life. He sighed heavily, dragging his normal hand down his face with a groan. He could still feel the weight of Cherry on his lap, a fleeting warmth he had already grown all too fond of. The rest of the world had paled and gone nonexistent in Cherry's presence, and he ached to have it back on his lap and in his arms. Cherry's suggestion was for the best, though, and Shiro was glad it had been voiced. All of this had been a little much, and it was time to go home and sleep it off before he'd done or said something he would regret. If he wanted to see Cherry again, he wanted it to be on good terms.

****

**II.**

****

It'd been a few days since Shiro had thought about going back to that club. Or had it been a few weeks? Between the therapy and readjusting to his old home, he wasn't quite sure. But Cherry hadn't left his mind once since he'd gotten back to his apartment, a constant figure in his mind as he slowly lived out his days in semi-solitude. The man was the only thing that really made Shiro look forward to getting up in the mornings and forcing himself to step outside of his apartment, away from the unpacked boxes and the guilty look upon his dog's face. His therapist had warned him that coming back to 'normal society' would be hard, but Shiro hadn't expected it to be completely void and full of everything overwhelming all at once. He felt a fever in his limbs he wanted to scratch at, to help break free from the confines of his flesh and finally _feel_ something with, but he refrained. He was having a shitty time adjusting, but at least he had his distractions, no matter how small they were. Distractions helped with the self destructive behavior, and while he was warned to stay away from drugs and alcohol and the like...Cherry was a better distraction. Cherry was someone he wanted to get wasted with, and hopefully, if the feeling was mutual, spend the night with and get lost in those beautifully perse eyes. Warnings and advice be damned; he was going to do what he wanted to do.

****

Yet when Shiro found himself standing outside of the club, the neon lights' glare pricking his eyes, he was feeling hesitant. The night was quiet, not strangely so, but enough to unsettle Shiro as he stood there, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. The light from the two moons cradled the sleek metal of the buildings in their soft glow, and Shiro's breath formed in frosted puffs in front of his lips. The occasional sound of a car or hoverbike behind him was all that broke the silence, and for as soft as even that noise was, it made Shiro start and freeze in place. He couldn't even hear the music from the club. He was starting to suspect it had closed for the night, but the occasional patron walking in or stumbling out proved it wasn't so.

****

He bit his lip, the turmoil turning over in his stomach and making him feel sick. Cherry had said he wasn't going anywhere, and he had even welcomed Shiro back for another visit. Yet when Shiro thought about it, would Cherry be with someone else already? The man was gorgeous, so Shiro didn't doubt it. He hadn't been paying too much attention at the time they had first met, but he was sure Cherry had had eyes on him, admirers at his feet and offering him their money at every turn. The fact that Cherry had even been open to offering him, a stranger, a dance that night had been an honor. An honor Shiro wanted to feel more of, and have all to himself. Jealousy was such an ugly feeling, though, yet he couldn't help but feel it. It sat in his chest like a rock, but he did his best to swallow it down. Cherry was his own person, and they had only just met.

****

Still he stood there, though, in the cold as he awkwardly itched at the human skin underneath the sleeve of his jacket. It was freezing outside, to be honest, and yet he was burning up from the inside out. He knew he wasn't sick, yet the heat stuck to his skin and made him sweat, making him feel clammy and uncomfortable as he stared at the doors of the club. The sight of a man stumbling past them, retching quietly to himself was what finally pushed Shiro inside. Shiro didn't want to be near someone puking their guts up, truth be told. Back in the day he may have offered a hand and the patience to wave down a cab for them, but for now, he just wanted Cherry. God, what an obsessive maniac he had become.

****

He took a deep breath and pushed past the doors, the subtle bass of soft music meeting his ears. It was no wonder he couldn't hear anything outside; apparently the club had collectively decided to take a day to listen to more gentle tunes. Shiro couldn't complain, honestly, even if it did make the place that much more surreal. Again, that first night here had been focused almost immediately upon Cherry and the way he moved and talked. The rest of the surroundings had blurred out around the man, and it was all irrelevant in the end. Shiro couldn't see the man anywhere just yet, though, so he took the moment to look around, the lyrics to something about daddy issues floating around in the air, offering a soft beat Shiro could feel himself subconsciously relaxing to. 

****

In retrospect, the place wasn't that big. The bar lined the far right side of the building, covered in what appeared to be Christmas lights wrapping around the counter and shelves. The light fixtures lit up the walls behind it in a spray of vivid colors, and the floor underneath it was much the same, making it a sort of area where one's eye couldn't help but be drawn to. Of course, it was being contested with the stages throughout the establishment, but only a couple were lit up and weaving intricate designs of blues and pinks upon the sleek, black surfaces of the flooring at that moment. The dancers occupying the poles weren't exactly what Shiro was looking for, either. They had their patrons, and they wore their own smiles as they delicately performed tricks Shiro knew he would break his neck over. 

****

Nonetheless, there were, of course, the private rooms down the hallway in the back, but those weren't something you just walked into. He sighed bitterly, his heart dropping from his chest to his stomach, forming the feeling of an ulcer against the lining. He had known this was a bad idea; he'd allowed himself to try and reach out to a stranger, one he'd found attractive and beautiful, and he'd already gotten attached. He just felt like an unreasonably jealous idiot, and he was about to turn and walk back out of the club and forget about everything before something bumped into his shoulder. 

****

"Oh!" he heard, the familiar voice sending a shock through his system that buzzed and fried every nerve ending in his limbs. "You came back! I was wondering if you were my big guy. You've got a pretty memorable build on you, though it's kind of hard to recognize from afar." 

****

Cherry smiled pleasantly, his hair tied back, a bag clutched to his side as he looked up at Shiro. He looked surprisingly casual, a red jacket adorned with yellow stripes at the front perched upon his shoulders, and he wore a black v-neck showing off clavicles one would see on a marble statue. Shiro already felt weak in the knees, but the relief that washed over him was enough to keep him upright for the moment. 

****

"Yeah, uh, sorry. I've had a lot more come up these past few days than I had anticipated." He laughed, a weak noise forced from his lungs as he met Cherry's eyes. They looked sympathetic, and he wanted to hate it. 

****

"Hey, no! Don't apologize. I'm always here. I was wondering when you'd come back, though. I'm glad you showed up again," Cherry said with a smile, reaching out to squeeze Shiro's bicep in a comforting gesture. Shiro leaned into the touch, offering the man a taut smile of his own. 

****

"I hope I didn't interrupt anything...I can't tell if you're leaving, or coming in for a good time like I am." 

****

Cherry laughed, a noise drowned out by the din of the music, but sweet nonetheless. "Nah, I just came in to start my night. I'll be a few minutes getting ready, but I can come out and meet ya at the bar, yeah? Just steer clear of anyone else, I want you all to myself tonight. It's the least I can offer, after leaving you all lost and abandoned in the back rooms last time." He winked, patting Shiro on the arm before he started weaving his way towards the back of the club. 

****

Shiro was breathless, wanting to follow, but he forced himself in the direction of the bar instead. He had wanted to protest and argue, because that hadn't been true, but Cherry...he seemed to like getting the last word in. With the way that man's body left Shiro breathless, though, he wasn't sure he would have been able to say anything in the end anyway. He made his way over and slipped down onto a bar stool with a hefty sigh, burying his face in his hands and massaging it wearily. He was going to enjoy himself. Cherry's presence had already helped perk his mood. He wasn't going to regret this, and he wasn't going to do anything to ruin this. 

****

"You look like you could use something to eat," came a voice from behind the counter, and Shiro jerked up, met with the sight of the man the _Azure Asshole_ had been clinging to that first night Shiro had been here. He was a bartender? Had he been on a break that night? Either way, he looked nice enough, and Shiro wasn't about to think too hard on the situation. The tattoos lacing up the man's arms and shoulders were impressive, at the very least. They made Shiro feel self conscious with just his one, but they intrigued him enough to carry on the conversation. 

****

"I would actually take it, if you serve food here," Shiro mumbled, offering the barkeep a doofy smile as he leaned his cheek into the palm of his hand.

****

Shiro was met with a bit of a somber look, though the man pushed a jar of maraschino cherries across the bar top towards him. An offering, if Shiro was reading the situation correctly. "One of our many faults here, in my opinion. I keep saying we need to make use of the kitchen in the back, dude, but no one ever wants to listen to me. I'd say business would go up tenfold." He shook his head, and Shiro couldn't help but laugh as he popped the lid off of the jar. 

****

"Well, uh...thanks for these...?" Shiro's voice trailed off into a question. No one really wore name tags in here, which was understandable. Made things a little confusing, though. 

****

"Hunk," came his answer immediately after, and he poured Shiro a soft red drink before putting one of the cherries into it. "I work here on week days. I'm the only one who bothers doing anything creative with the drinks, too. So if you don't want the usual boring stuff, I'm your guy." 

****

"Thanks, Hunk," Shiro said, nursing the drink with an appreciative hum. It was sweet, but it wasn't overbearingly so. Shiro usually liked the bitter taste of the alcohol, but he supposed stepping outside of his comfort zone and indulging in a few fun, fruity drinks wouldn't hurt him. "You been working here long?" he asked, popping a cherry from the jar into his mouth. It wasn't exactly the best dinner he could have had, but it was something. He'd just have to make up for it later. 

****

"About three months," Hunk said, leaning over with his elbows against the counter. "It's not much, no. I was asked to work here by one of the dancers. I went to school with them, and well, in this day and age it's kind of hard to find a job in what I studied for." He shook his head, and the look on his face had Shiro's heart twisting in sympathy and understanding. 

****

"At least it doesn't seem too bad here?" Shiro asked, a hopeful tone to his voice as he glanced around the club. It looked like some more dancers had started filing in and making their rounds, which made sense. Shiro supposed he had gotten there a little early. The music had switched genres, too, opting for something more akin to what one would hear out partying at other clubs. The stripes of neon along the tops of the walls started melding into different colors, and Shiro found himself facing Hunk much sooner, the gradual transitions giving him a headache. The glow of the purple just made him downright uncomfortable, though, for as pretty as the display was. 

****

"It's not, no," Hunk mused, reaching for a cherry of his own to eat. "Despite the amount of people in here, there's actually not too many dancers. I cried my first day in here meeting them all. I still cry around certain ones. They're just so...open. Too open." 

****

Hunk visibly shuddered, and the sound of someone else laughing caught Shiro's attention. He turned, his eyes immediately locking with Cherry's as he slipped down into the seat next to Shiro's. "You're gonna have to watch out for that," he mused, his voice like silk against Shiro's eardrums. "Can you get me the usual, Hunk?" 

****

Hunk nodded, and while Shiro would have liked to talk with him more, the bar was getting busier and he had Cherry with him again. He held himself up upon the bar stool as elegantly as ever, a shirt made of some sheer black fabric hugging his torso. The peculiar glint of what appeared to be leather pants hugged Cherry's thighs, and Shiro snorted as he looked down at them, an eyebrow quirked in a silent question. "How do you function in here with those on?"

****

"I don't," Cherry said, a rueful tone to his voice as he grabbed his drink. "It's not my night to go on the stage. They're a little more comfortable when I'm just walking around, and yet flashy enough to grab the attention of others." He held his leg out, exposing a length Shiro hadn't paid too much attention to yet. It seemed Cherry was all legs, so slender and long and hypnotizing. Shiro licked the back of his teeth as he dragged his gaze away from them, offering instead a small smile as he popped a cherry into...er, _Cherry's_ drink. 

****

It earned him a small chuckle, and Cherry fluttered his lashes as he crossed one leg over the other, his eyes looking Shiro up and down. "So what have you been up to? Got yourself a cushy job that's been keeping you occupied?" 

****

Shiro bit the inside of his cheek, looking down at his drink while he traced the rim with a finger. "I just moved back not too long ago, so not yet, no. It's been a process." He offered Cherry a guilty shrug, nursing another drink passed to him without even checking to see what it was. It tasted creamy, at the very least. Good man Hunk, for catching onto Shiro's desperation and keeping a constant drink in his hand. "I um...for the whole losing a limb thing, I got compensated. Had to fight tooth and nail for it, but..."

****

Cherry whistled lowly, leaning his cheek into the palm of a hand. "That sucks," he muttered, his voice almost lost to the bass of the music. Shiro leaned closer, a gesture that was mimicked on Cherry's end. The man smiled teasingly as he readjusted himself into a better position, reaching out with his free hand to gently stroke Shiro's tuft of hair. "You dye that yourself?" he asked, a welcome change of topic he seemed to be conscious of. Shiro laughed as he shook his head, taking a moment to down the current shot before he spoke again. 

****

"No, actually. I, erm...I..." He laughed awkwardly, leaning into Cherry's lingering fingers with a shake of his head. "It's a long story best saved for another time." Cherry hummed lowly, bringing his hand back to himself after a moment. So much for a welcome change in the conversation. Either way, the man was practically in Shiro's lap, and he really didn't know how to read the situation one way or the other. Was Cherry that interested in him? Or was he more concerned with Shiro's money? Either way, Cherry was...there was something off, with him. His eyes were wide and bright, and up close like this, Shiro could see flecks of gold in the darkened irises. It was subtle, and his pupils were small, and Shiro only just now realized the faint hue of purple hugging Cherry's hands, fading slowly as it climbed up his arms. That same shade of purple seemed to hug his hairline, and Shiro swallowed hard, a faint memory nagging at the edge of his mind. He wanted to chase the rabbit, but a hand resting against his thigh ripped him back into reality, and he found himself gazing into Cherry's eyes once again with a sputtered breath. 

****

"Are you okay?" Cherry asked, his eyelashes fluttering innocently, the flecks of gold seemingly missing from his eyes. Shiro looked down at Cherry's hand, noting the pale skin and how it clung to delicate bones, and he nodded, the guilt settling in his stomach. 

****

"Yeah, sorry," he laughed quietly, already pawing for another shot that was, thankfully, waiting for him upon the counter top. "You interested in men prone to flashbacks by any chance...?" God, he was pathetic. It was a wonder Cherry was even still sitting with him.

****

He laughed, though, a sound that encouraged Shiro to do the same, and this time with feeling. "I suppose I could be," Cherry said after a moment, his eyes rolled to the side in thought. "I have to admit, I've never been with a veteran before...sure, I dance for all sorts of people, but actually being involved intimately with them..." A soft _hmm_ sounded in the back of Cherry's throat, and he shook his head. "I don't know. I guess this could be a new experience for the both of us." He smiled, leaning forward to press a kiss to the side of Shiro's neck. 

****

It was a gesture so out of the blue, and Shiro's pulse fluttered at the touch, and it took more effort than he would have liked to admit to keep from holding Cherry in place. He wanted to kiss those pretty lips himself, and he wanted to kiss them _hard._ Cherry was such a beautiful tease, and it had Shiro's legs widening upon the stool on pure instinct alone. "I-I'm...wow, okay. I'm happy to hear you're willing to give it a try," Shiro breathed, his hands shaking as Cherry finally pulled back, his soft black hair tickling the edge of Shiro's jawline. 

****

"You don't have to be so nervous," he said, his tone gentle as he watched Shiro from the corner of his eye. "I mean, listen...it's obvious you did more than just being in the Airforce. You actually went out into space, right? If you got discharged from something like that, it's okay to just...try and relax. I'm not going to pry. That's not why you're here, and that's not why I'm here either, honestly." His smile was reassuring, but Shiro felt cold. Did he really look that pathetic? Was he _really_ that easy to read? He rubbed at his arm self consciously as he looked down at the counter, swallowing hard as he forced a smile. In the end, poor Cherry, honestly; he really was sweet, and if at the end of the day, all he was interested in was money, he seemed to at least be trying to understand. He was smart, that was for sure, if he caught onto the fact Shiro had been part of the Elite Garrison. God knew he tried to hide that as best as he could. Maybe he should have been unnerved by the assumption, but...

****

"Thanks," Shiro muttered after a moment, coughing quietly as he righted himself. He'd grown all hunched, and he'd probably started drooling, too, and that wasn't a sight he had wanted Cherry to see. He was suddenly just so weak, his eyes bleary and fogged over. The memories he'd tried so hard to repress seemed all too keen on prying at the base of his skull, causing him to ache and shiver and curl inwardly into himself as he stared at the flashing lights reflecting upon the counter. This was hard. It choked him from the inside, his throat tight and threatening to close in on himself. This was hard, and he was embarrassed, but he couldn't stop it. It was so easy to lose himself in the moment, to clutch the glass a little too tight, to the point his knuckles were white and his jaw followed suit and clenched. It made his head hurt, the pain wringing the tissue behind his left eye as it attempted to evolve into a migraine. He wanted to give in and have the excuse to knock himself out with a couple pain killers and something stronger to drink, but that was a recipe for disaster even he didn't want to deal with in the morning.

****

A soft, feather-light touch on his back brought Shiro back to reality with a start, and he find himself staring at Cherry again, the man's eyes wide with concern once more. "Do you need to go home?" he asked, his voice soft, yet still audible over the club's music. The bass from the rhythm made his chest hurt, and after a moment Shiro nodded, deciding that yes, it was time to go home again. 

****

"I can drive you there," Cherry offered, bringing his hand around to cradle the side of Shiro's face, the cold touch of his skin a relief against his clammy skin and the dull ache forming inside of his head. He wanted to argue that he still had some time left in him, that he could manage a few more drinks, but Cherry looked tender and sincere. It was unlike his usual facade, and it was easy to give into. Shiro was barely buzzing, but he used the excuse he had too much to drink to justify having a stranger drive him home, and ultimately, knowing the address of where he felt most vulnerable. Luckily Cherry didn't seem like the kind of guy to show up at his doorstep a few days later, at least. Hopefully. 

****

So in the end, Shiro found himself nodding quietly. "Let's go," Cherry murmured, yanking a sleek, leather jacket from the stool beside himself to tug over his shoulders. It was expensive, Shiro noted. Cherry wound his arm around Shiro's waist, and he noted the way the leather glinted in the lights, the oily sheen to it oddly reminiscent of jet fuel. He decided in that moment he didn't want to look at it anymore. Cherry didn't seem to be offended. 

****

He pushed past the doors to the entrance of the club, revealing the dingy corner it was located on it all of its surreal glory. "My car's just down the block," Cherry said, encouraging Shiro to drape an arm over his shoulders. Shiro happily did so, leaning on Cherry wearily as they walked down the sidewalk. Cherry's boots were expensive, too; they looked like something Shiro had in his own closet, a pair of boots that hugged Cherry's calves and stopped halfway. They looked just as heavy as the red pair he'd seen, and every step he took made him wonder if it was steel toe or if that's what the damn things were actually made of. They were an elegant fit, covered in spikes that ran up the sides and covered the heel that gave them a much more dangerous look, and Shiro found he wanted them crushing his breastplate, pushing down into his lungs, and he--

****

He nearly tripped over Cherry, wringing a surprised laugh from the man as he used his two hands to hold Shiro steady by the shoulders. "Geez, you only had about what, three shots? Did Hunk make them doubles or something?" 

****

Shiro shook his head, a soft blush turning his cheeks rosy as he leaned away from Cherry. "No, I'm just...you're attractive. It's easy to get lost in you." His face burned hotter at the comment, but still, he couldn't take his eyes off of the man. 

****

Cherry seemed to fumble with his keys at the comment, but he bounced his shoulders in a quick, half-hearted shrug before he ushered Shiro down into his car. It was nice, too, another thing Shiro deemed he liked. It smelled like strawberries, and while it was a little too small for Shiro's liking, he managed to recline the seat back and relax. Cherry fell into the driver's seat with a soft grunt, keying the ignition with ease to get the car going and immediately turn on the heat. Right, it was cold outside. Shiro was burning up, but with the nearly see-through shirt Cherry was wearing underneath an open leather jacket, the man was probably cold. Shiro was tempted to offer him his own coat. 

****

"Fuck," Cherry suddenly blurted, turning in his seat to give his backseat a bewildered look. Shiro followed suit, his gaze switching from the suede seats, to the soft glow in Cherry's mauve eyes as his shoulders sank and he deflated. "I forgot my bag in the club. Will you be okay by yourself?" he asked, giving Shiro an apologetic look. 

****

Shiro just nodded, idly watching Cherry's ass as he climbed out of his car. Wasn't much on it, but Cherry still had a beautiful figure that Shiro desperately wanted to feel on himself again. He sighed, staring down at his lap as he waited patiently. The night held a strange, green sort of hue to it, and Shiro had to wonder if it was actually just him seeing things, or if the weather was doing its thing again. After all, though, the purple lights of the club had been enough to make his stomach lurch and his mind backpedal elsewhere. There had been more than just purple upon that ship he'd called home for so long; the green washed over the metal catwalks, illuminating otherwise dark hallways he'd only gotten to see snippets of. He'd never been allowed out of that room, except...except for special occasions, ones he couldn't bring himself to remember, but that's what he remembered most about that green. It hung outside of his door like a ghost, watching him, mocking him. 

_Green means go, right?_

Shiro was suddenly being dragged along against his will, his tongue dry, his mind slow and hazy as he watched the floor slip away underneath himself. The metal reflected the green from the lights above, making the floor shine in a way that made his already nauseous stomach turn even more so inside of himself. It was such a bright, unpleasant green, and it managed to cast dark, long shadows along the walls he didn't like looking at. They were shaped funny, like hands reaching out to take him by the throat and suffocate him. He was afraid of the dark, honestly, and the shadows reminded him constantly that's where he was going, where he was being sent to rot away. The grip upon his arm was inhumanely strong, and the robot that was guiding him along the path was silent and determined. Shiro hated it, but at the same time, he found comfort in the company it offered. He didn't know where it had picked him up and why it was taking him away from where he'd been, but he really didn't want to remember. There was a pain in his spine slicing him apart like a blade, and the feeling in his right arm made him want to tear it off completely and be done with it. All he knew at that moment was pain, how it seemed to cling to every nerve and how it made him quietly wish for death. 

****

The sound of the car door slamming back into place made Shiro jump, his heart hammering in his chest at a pace that honestly made him feel like he was dying right at that very moment. "Sorry," Cherry muttered, laughing breathlessly as he turned the engine over once again, kicking the car back into life. "Blue was scheduled for tonight, which, speaking of, thank you for saving me from having to watch his drunken dancing. Didn't save me from his bullshitting, though."

****

Shiro just managed a weak noise, but it was sufficient in keeping Cherry's suspicions at bay. How long had he been in there? Shiro didn't think it had been too long, but sure enough, when he checked the clock, about twenty minutes had passed. He took a deep breath, hugging himself as he watched Cherry pull out of the lot, letting the low rumble of the car underneath him sooth his nerves. Cherry turned on the radio, idly making small conversation about tacky pop songs and how he was tired of dancing to one in particular. Occasionally he'd sing along to them. Shiro decided he'd liked his singing voice a lot.

Between Shiro feeding Cherry instructions and being focused on a hand that seemed to like his thigh a whole lot, they'd managed to arrive at his apartment some few minutes later. "I guess you weren't kidding when you said you were close," Cherry mused, gazing up at the old, brick building with wonder in his eyes. "You managed to get yourself a corner apartment downtown? What did you have to sell to get that?"

"My right arm," Shiro said, holding it up with a small smirk that earned himself a mortified look. 

"Oh, fuck. Might as well have shoved my whole foot in my mouth there." Cherry averted his gaze to the left, reaching up to twirl his hair around a finger anxiously. Shiro was anything but insulted, and he just snickered, walking to Cherry's side with a shake of his head. 

"Hey uh, thanks for giving me a ride. It helped me feel a little better." He smiled, reaching out to rest his hand upon Cherry's shoulder. He wasn't that much shorter than Shiro. Then again, he was wearing boots, but like this, Shiro had about a head on him. 

"It's no problem," Cherry said, locking his car behind him before he turned to face Shiro. "Uh...you want me to walk you up?" He bit his lip, the apprehension visible on his delicate features. It made Shiro feel better, to know Cherry was feeling at least something in this moment, too. 

He'd nodded, though, and Cherry flashed him a smile as he walked beside Shiro. The trip up the stairs was a quiet one, but every touch Cherry offered Shiro, whether he accidentally brushed against him or reached out to pat his arm, was enough to keep the silence from being too awkward. Their hands had bumped against each other for about the sixth time when they had finally made it to the top, but that's where Cherry stopped short, reaching out to tug on Shiro's sleeve to keep him from wandering too far away. 

"I don't know if you want me seeing where you live, so I can leave now," he offered, his expression cool and hard to read. He was good at that, aside from when he was shooting Shiro flirty smiles and fluttering lashes. He was a little disappointed, but he nodded. There was an underlying expression on Cherry's face that made him decide it'd be a bad idea to pry.

"You're free to come in. But if you want to leave, I can't force you to stay," he laughed, his chest aching as he fought down the million other things he wanted to say. 

_Stay with me._

_Fuck me._

_Have dinner with me?_

Cherry's eyes roamed the walls of the hallway, his teeth chewing at his plump, lower lip. He was quiet, obviously thinking, and Shiro could only hope his heart beating wasn't loud enough for him to hear it.

"I shouldn't," Cherry finally muttered, breaking the silence with a dagger to Shiro's heart. The wind was knocked out of him, and he bit the inside of his cheek as he forced a smile and nod. 

"That's fine! I can always see you again some other time..." His words trailed off as Cherry started rummaging in his bag, eyebrows furrowed as he cursed under his breath. Shiro snorted as he watched, head tilted as he watched Cherry finally pull out a pen and a piece of...napkin? Shiro watched as he pressed it to the wall, scrawling something down upon the material before he handed it over to Shiro. 

"Sorry if it's stained. The only thing I had in there," he said, his gaze unable to meet Shiro's as he took the napkin. "But uh, yeah. Call me whenever. Maybe we can get coffee this week." 

Cherry smiled, offering Shiro a wave of the hand before he turned and made his way back down the stairs. Shiro watched him go, and he stood there until the sounds of Cherry's footsteps faded and he heard the sound of the door as it opened and closed. It was only when the quiet settled around him like a blanket of snow did he finally look down at the napkin, at the elegantly scrawled numbers that formed a 10 digit phone number, accompanied by a single name underneath it. 

_Keith._

**III.**

A date to the small café on the corner of 31st and Arus was made over a rather lengthy text conversation. Shiro had been rigid the entire time, his dog at his feet and whining impatiently for him to take something for the anxiety, or do something else to calm him down. They'd both been on edge for as much as Shiro worried about the number he'd stuck to his fridge, gazing at it every day since he'd been dropped off. The day after he'd accepted the ride home had passed, and then soon the second day was gone, and the third and fourth flew by just as quickly before Shiro realized he should probably send Keith _something._ He wanted to visit the club again, but the mere idea of it gave him an anxiety in his chest that flared up and cut off his vocal chords every time he thought about it. The club was nice, but it was too much stimulation for his current situation. 

Nonetheless, he was scheduled for coffee at six that night. Keith's typing made him seem almost bored, but Shiro was sure he wasn't much better. It was something small to fret about it, though, enough so that his dog had carried his medication from his nightstand over to him and dropped it at his feet. He laughed weakly, taking the moment to sit with her on the floor and pet her ears, letting her lean against him in some sort of faux doggy-hug. He'd have to take her out with him. Strip clubs were a big _no_ for service dogs, but for something like this, he owed it to her. Hopefully Keith didn't mind dogs. 

Shiro wandered around in a haze until the clock hit five. His apartment was spacious, and he'd at least had the common sense to unpack his computer and other small, personal belongings that he used on the daily. Boxes still hung around the edges of the rooms, though, their musky scent hanging in the air despite how many candles he'd burned. Some were opened, others still sealed with fraying duct tape, left to the elements as the sun beat down against them through the windows. He'd managed to gather up the motivation to go through one box and unpack it, something for him to do as he waited to leave. 

It was a box full of medals he'd won back in school, boot camp, and his three years in the military. He felt sick, and he let those demons rest in a closet in the spare room. 

"Wanna go for a walk?" he finally asked, smiling despite himself as his dog wound herself up. Service dog or not, she still managed to get excited over the small things. It wasn't typical behavior, and Shiro shouldn't have been endorsing it, but the dog was his now, and she acted fine in public. He just felt awful, telling her no when she got excited about something. Every damn dog loved a good walk, and if someone in his home was going to get excited about things, it was at least going to be her. 

The air outside was cold. Snow had started falling the night before, leaving everything coated in a veil of glittering stardust that lasted well into the evening. Shiro got weird looks as he walked along the sidewalk. Probably because he had put booties on his dog. 

She was elated to be outside, though, her big ears perked and her tongue hanging outside of her mouth as she trotted along. Shiro barely even needed to use the leash. She stayed glued to his side, offering small _woofs_ as he lost track of time and reality both and started aimlessly walking along. She got a treat every time she kept his dumb ass from walking out into the street. 

Despite the chill, Shiro and his dog managed to kill the last hour before his date was set to happen. He waited outside of the café, back pressed to the wall with his nose buried in between cupped hands. He didn't mind the cold, no, but it was tempting to dip inside and warm up for a moment as they waited. His dog seemed content to stay outside, though, sitting by his leg and watching the people pass. He distracted himself with the same task, noting the hurried gaits, the slow, lazy strolls of couples wandering down the streets as they admired the lights in the trees. The setting sun cast a rosy hue over everything, making the snow glow pink and look much warmer than what it really was. It was a beautiful evening, and Shiro tried to distract himself with it as Keith steadily crept up on being ten, twenty minutes late. 

A red car pulled into the single free space in front of the café, and Shiro was ready to dismiss it before he noticed Keith climb out of it. The man was breathless as he immediately jogged up to Shiro, guilt wrought on his features. "I'm sorry! You remember Blue, right? He spent the night at my place trying to escape a creep, and fuck, man. Sometimes I want to punch him." 

Shiro laughed, the jealousy rearing so suddenly, so _violently_ before he could even process it. He mentally beat it down with a broom, reminding himself that the two were probably just good friends. "It's good to see you, at least," Shiro offered, earning himself a relived smile. "I was starting to think you'd leave me all alone, out here in the cold." 

"Oh, don't feed me that," Keith retorted, his eyes on Shiro's dog as he gestured to her. "You look like you've got plenty of company. May I...?" He looked back to Shiro, a chastising expression gone sincere as he held his hand out towards the dog. Shiro nodded, watching as the dog pressed her snout into Keith's hand and relished in his attentions. 

"What's her name?" Keith asked, a smile on his lips Shiro wasn't sure he was supposed to be looking at or not. It was subtle, but noticeable, and Shiro had never wanted to kiss anything so badly in his life. 

"Nina," he said, offering the dog a treat as Keith made to pull back. "She's my service dog. I feel like she deserves better, but when you think about the situation, it gets a little fucked up and I tend to drop the idea and let her have a whole slice of pizza to herself." 

Keith laughed, pushing the door open to the café for Shiro and Nina, the warmth flowing out into the cool air and inviting them in. "I'm sure she's not complaining," he said, winking down at the little mutt as he bent over to pet her again. Shiro noted he seemed to have lost his companion, with the way she drifted more towards Keith and walked with him instead. He scrunched his features at her, but he let her be as they ordered their drinks and found a table to sit at. 

Keith led him over to the corner of the dining area, a cozy table situated by a window accented in glittering garland and sparkling lights. He sat down with Nina at his side, and he smiled down at her, stroking her soft head as he settled into his chair. "So what is she? She looks like a German Shepherd, but that's...all I know about dogs," he laughed, crossing his arms over his stomach as his gaze fell upon Shiro.

"She's that, mixed with some other breeds. She's a mutt, basically. I love her," Shiro said, laughing quietly before he nursed his drink. Keith honestly looked beautiful even in more casual attire, from the black jeans that hugged his legs, to the familiar splash of red upon his jacket and boots. He wore a plain v-neck underneath his jacket, and while it was zipped, Shiro hadn't noticed it was cropped. Keith's abdomen was beautiful, even underneath clothes, but the poor guy had to be freezing. He didn't seem to be too bothered as they chatted, though, nursing his drink here and there and leaning forward as the conversation went on. 

"And like, the guy just hands me a ten. Which I take, but it smells just...really weird, you know? Really suspicious, like he'd shoved it up his asshole and left it there for a couple of days. Have you ever bleached money? Because man, that's something I never thought I'd do as much as have after getting this job." Keith scrunched his nose, shaking his head as he tipped his drink back and finished it. Shiro had been laughing his ass off at the story, reaching out on pure reflex and instinct alone to take Keith's hand in his and squeeze it gently. 

"I never knew working at a strip club could be so...colorful?" he giggled, noting the soft pink tinge to Keith's cheeks, the way he seemed to curl into himself and shut down whatever was happening at the moment. It looked like he was struggling, though, because he kept smiling, nodding in agreement to Shiro's comment before he sighed. 

"It's not all bad. I need to actually show you a routine I do on the pole at some point. But, again, that's when you need to be wary about what you're picking up. I had a condom thrown at me once. Pretty sure it was used," he laughed ruefully, his fingers twitching underneath Shiro's, like he wasn't sure what to do with them. Shiro let them go, using his other hand to rub at his nose and cheeks as he shook his head. 

"Well, you can at least take comfort in knowing I'm not going to throw used condoms at you." Keith huffed in amusement, flashing Shiro a soft expression as he nodded towards the door. 

"Whenever you want it, I'll treat you. I promise." 

Shiro's heart fluttered, and the conversation fizzled out between them. It was late, and Nina had been fretting at his side. It was time to take his medication, he supposed, but he hated the idea of walking back home and leaving Keith again. "Thanks for this," he muttered, a soft smile on his lips as he leaned over the table. 

"I should be thanking _you,_ " Keith argued, mirroring Shiro's movement, his lips thin as his gaze found the window again. "I mean...I don't know. I'm just used to the usual in the club, or just the occasional really weird person. Or the asshole who refuses to pay me, but..." Keith managed a smile, though it was hesitant. A thousand unspoken words passed between them in that moment, and Shiro nodded. He understood, or at least, he liked to think he did. Keith was object to other people, and he was used to being treated as such. Call Shiro a white knight or whatever, but he wanted to treat Keith better, especially if...if they were going to be a thing. 

Shiro reached out to cradle the side of his face, leaning into the moment to finally press his lips against Keith's. He could feel the man tense for but a moment, and soon the caution was thrown to the wind as he rose up against Shiro like a wave. Keith mouthed at his lips hungrily, something Shiro was eager to reciprocate as their breath mingled together between them, coming out in hot puffs that frosted in the cool air. Keith tasted like coffee and whipped cream with a hint of peppermint. His hair was soft, and Shiro buried his flesh hand into it, holding him close as Keith's teeth nipped and tugged at his lips. 

They finally broke apart when the coughing of uncomfortable bystanders grew louder, something Shiro regretted the moment Keith's lips left his. He couldn't help but reach up and touch his lips with a shaky laugh, his eyes lingering on Keith's, admiring how red and wet they looked in the soft, golden lights of the café. Keith's eyes were narrowed and he swallowed hard before looking outside, his gaze flitting back and forth between the sky and Shiro. 

"We should probably call it a day," he laughed nervously, leaning back into his chair, his shoulders slouched and his eyes both lustful and uncertain as he looked over at Shiro. "Unless you...?" 

Shiro's heart was in his throat, and he looked down at Nina who was staring back at him expectantly. Fuck. "You're right," he muttered guiltily, slouching in his seat with an apologetic look on his features. "I definitely want to do this again later, though." 

Keith smirked, almost looking relieved as he pushed his hand through his hair, getting to his feet slowly. "Next week, space man. Friday night, eleven. I'll show you a good time." His voice was deep and husky, and it immediately made Shiro regret passing up on that hesitant offer.

Keith left him with another kiss pressed to his lips, a soft, lingering promise that they would see each other again. Shiro held onto it tightly.

**IV.**

Cherry was golden this time around. 

The glitter seemed to be a sign he'd be up on stage that night, from what Shiro had gleaned from the whole scene. It clung to his skin in swirling patterns, smeared across his pale complexion from where he'd rubbed at it and the pole had its way with his legs. Shiro was lost in the way it glittered underneath the lights, with how it seemed to pulse along with the music and completely enrapture his attention. 

The gold of the glitter mixed with the dark purple of his clothes, and Shiro had to bury his mouth into his palm as he watched Cherry's body move. He seemed fond of wearing something on his legs when he danced, but the sheer, slick fabric of the black pantyhose that hugged his thighs and calves made him move all the more smoothly and swiftly upon the pole. Cherry didn't have much to flaunt aside from rippling muscle alone, but he made up for it with the way he clung to the shimmering metal, one leg arched above him and keeping him in place, his back bending backwards as he made sure to lock eyes with Shiro. 

There were others watching, but Cherry was going out of his way to make this a private show for two. He was back on his feet and walking circles around the pole, his eyelids heavily drooped as he gazed at Shiro from underneath full lashes, his darkened lips puckered as he blew the man a kiss. Shiro, feeling confidently cheesy, held out a hand and pretended he caught it in his palm, moving to kiss it with narrowed eyes. Cherry grinned, turning to face Shiro as he reached for the pole behind him with both hands, pressing his back flush against it as he slid downward, knees spreading out to either side of his hips and effectively making the heat drop to Shiro's abdomen. 

Cherry stretched a leg out towards him, an eyebrow quirked as he refused to move. It took Shiro a fair amount of time to realize what he wanted, and he reached out with a bill in hand, stroking it along the length of Cherry's leg before he tucked it in the top of a boot. Cherry shot him a rather offended look, something that read _if you touch me that much again, I_ will _punch your throat in,_ but Shiro didn't care. Cherry could take care of himself in his knee-high black platforms, and he did, kicking the hand of another patron away with a patronizing look cast down in their direction. 

Fuck, it was _hot._

Shiro felt like a dog as he watched the rest of the performance, admiring the tiny, spandex shorts that accentuated Cherry's sharp hip bones. He was pretty sure he'd been sitting there with his mouth open for a good while, too. He clamped it shut once he'd realized what he'd been doing, and he wiped away the drool that had been pooling on his chin, praying to whoever was listening that Cherry hadn't seen it. 

Fortunately, Cherry was back to climbing the pole, climbing dangerously high and managing to keep his spinning momentum the entire time. Shiro watched in awe, though he was admittedly clutching the side of the stage in worry. Blue had been up there before him, and Blue looked like he had a terrible sweating habit. His skin had been so bright, too, glowing like it was lathered in oil. Cherry, of course, had cleaned the pole all while yelling at Blue, but it still made Shiro's stomach clench with worry. 

Cherry clung to the structure with just his thighs like it was the easiest thing in the world, though, and he leaned back once more, reaching a hand out towards Shiro with a smirk on his lips. Shiro narrowed his eyes as he pressed more money into the man's hand, though he couldn't help the smile as he watched the linen paper disappear into the hem of Cherry's shorts. He shot Shiro a sweet, gratified expression before he swooped down off of the pole, gathering the growing piles of money at his feet with, and Shiro had to laugh, barely hidden concern written all over his face. 

Cherry continued on for a while after that, pausing once to grind exaggeratedly against the pole with the most ridiculous expression aimed at Shiro. It amazed Shiro the reception that move had gotten Cherry, and he snorted as he watched someone literally throw their wallet onto the stage. Cherry looked sort of horrified, and Shiro deemed it was a good idea to grab it and pass it back to the very, very drunk patron a few seats down from him. 

Shiro kept downing his drinks as time went on. He was relaxed, high from the buzz and the friendly...pill he'd popped earlier before he left home. The combination of it and the alcohol was probably why Cherry looked so purple again all of a sudden. Sure, there were some strange looking patrons to either side of him, hulking muscular men and willowy women with skin tones in shades of various blues and pinks, but Cherry was different. Cherry was familiar. The lights had gotten darker, and his eyes stood out against the dim, glowing and holding a beautiful, golden smolder to them. It reminded Shiro of the sunset, instead of the sour yellow he'd gotten so used to on that ship. 

It was strange, and Shiro felt he should have been horrified, disgusted, but Cherry was so...so beautiful. He was ethereal up on that stage, his skin becoming a darker hue by the second, his ears stretching up high, until they were pointed pyramids of velveteen fur upon his head. Shiro could only assume he was seeing things, despite the better reception and cheering from the crowd. Cherry didn't look at him very often at this point in his routine, but that was okay! Cherry was finishing up his dance, flashing that golden glitter along his abdominal muscles for everyone to see and admire. 

At one point, Cherry had turned his back to Shiro, squatting low to the stage with his ass pushed out behind himself. He was close to Shiro again, whether it had been intentional or not, but he had let his gaze wander. He discovered Cherry had a tattoo; a little tramp stamp just above the cleavage of his ass, a symbol that was familiar to Shiro in a discerning way. He'd seen it before, the three prongs pointing downward that tied together at the top in a subtle, forked arc...he'd seen it on that ship before. It was everywhere, a symbol that was proudly placed over mantles and archways, flashing across screens soldiers used to communicate with and read their reports and orders. Some had it tattooed on themselves, just like Shiro was seeing with Cherry on stage. 

He flinched back in his seat, but just like that, in the blink of an eye it was all over. He took a deep, shuddering breath, locking eyes with Cherry and attempting a smile for him. Cherry looked smug, his chest only slightly heaving as he took a moment to rest and pose with the pole. The music suddenly hit Shiro, and his heart hammered in his chest with how loud it was, the beat of the bass erratic and swelling with the music that traveled from the soles of his boots up into his chest. 

"I'll meet you by the bar!" Cherry called out, leaning forward to press a kiss above Shiro's eye before snatching the crumpled bills he'd been clutching in his fist. Shiro snorted heavily, nodding in agreement as he watched Cherry float down from the stage, disappearing behind a door near the stairs in a flash of shimmering gold and purple. Shiro's chest ached, and so does something else. He ignores that for the moment, considering he's still in public, and surrounded by very drunk strangers. One was already eyeballing him, their brows furrowed together, a wink flashed his way when they locked eyes and made contact. Shiro pursed his lips, offering the man a tense smile before he got up and wandered to the bar. 

"You're getting attached," came a voice behind him, and Shiro turned to see Blue, his bright eyes squinted with malice. "And you barely know the guy. God, you're a cheesy romcom with legs, dude." 

Shiro squared his shoulders, immediately indignant as he turned back to the whisky he'd ordered. "Aren't you fond of that bartender?" he asked, his voice dry and even as he gestured to Hunk. 

Blue immediately scoffed, waving a hand as he shook his head. "No, no! Don't you change the conversation on me, bro. I see how you look at Cherry. You managed to get him to look at you the same way. That's dangerous, man. I never knew Cherry had the capacity to love something that's not mon-" 

Blue yelped loudly, Cherry's hand meeting the back of his head with a loud _smack._ Shiro had to admit he didn't feel bad for not warning the guy Cherry had been approaching. 

"I'll kick your ass, Blue. Right here, right now." Cherry's hand was balled into a fist, and while Shiro would have loved nothing more than to see him kick some ass, he reached out to gently grab the man's arm and tug him back. 

"Hey, now, guys. Knock it off, Blue meant well. Right, Blue?" The man shrugged, shooting Shiro a sly smirk before he spun on his stool and got to his feet again. 

"Whatever! I'll leave you two to do whatever you wanna do. It's not my business." The look on Cherry's face told him that was a blatant lie, and Shiro had the same feeling himself. Nonetheless, he was still drunk, and he wrapped his arms around Cherry's waist, smearing his glitter and effectively getting it on his own clothes as he pulled the man closer to himself. 

Cherry snorted, his facade fading as he turned to hug Shiro's head. "I take it you liked what you saw? I hope you have enough for rent after tonight." He snickered, running his slender fingers through the fading forelock of Shiro's hair. 

"Don't you worry about me," Shiro muttered, pressing a kiss to Cherry's stomach through the fabric of a shirt he'd must have thrown over himself. Shiro made a noise of protest, something that made Cherry's abdomen flutter underneath his cheek. 

"You're drunk," he pointed out with a laugh, cupping the sides of Shiro's face and yanking his face back. "I should take you home, yeah?" 

"Yeah," Shiro muttered, a hazy smile on his lips as he leaned into Cherry's palm, turning to kiss it gently. 

How events had transpired into Shiro pressing Keith against his front door, their lips locked in a hungry battle for dominance, he didn't know. He didn't _want_ to think about it either, not when Keith was sucking on his lower lip, whining insistently as he wrapped his fingers around Shiro's hand, urging him to unlock the door behind them at a quicker pace. Shiro fumbled with the keys, his drunken mind too focused on Keith's tongue shoving its way into his mouth, but he somehow managed to get the door open in record time. 

He held Keith up by the ass, the man's slender legs winding around his waist. Shiro took a moment to slam his door shut and lock it, contemplating finding his way towards the bedroom before deciding that no, it was too far away. The couch in the living space was better suited for this, and he dropped Keith down onto it, climbing up into the man's lap with a stifled groan. Keith looked a little surprised at the action, but Shiro bent down to kiss that expression right off of his features, easing him into another kiss full of awkwardly mashed teeth and bumping noses. Keith wasn't even half as drunk as Shiro was, but he'd had a few shots in him. Honestly, how they made it back to his place without _dying_ was a mystery in itself. 

The heat of Keith's mouth pulled Shiro back into reality. He'd tugged Shiro's shirt up from underneath the hem of his pants, tugging it off and throwing it to the side, Keith's fingertips tracing paths of fire against his exposed skin and scars. Shiro shivered with a pathetic moan, pulling back to bury his nose against Keith's pulse, his own hands reaching out to quickly rid the man of his jacket. Shiro kissed his skin, sucking hard and wetly until he saw a bruise blossom out from underneath his lips, and he was eager to leave more. Keith was gasping and panting, his hands tugging at Shiro's hair, pawing at his tattoo, a quiet plea and gesture that it was okay to do so. Fuck, Shiro was hard, and he could feel Keith was, too. 

He latched onto every available exposed patch of skin he could find, running the cool metal of his right hand up Keith's shirt and along his abdomen. "S-Shiro," he heard, Keith's voice soft and breathy as he arched up into his touch. Shiro's fingertips brushed over a pert nipple and Keith _gasped,_ squirming underneath his hand and mouth alike as it trailed bruising, butterfly kisses along his collarbones. 

"Fuck, Shiro," Keith gasped, his eyelashes fluttering and eyes lidded as he gazed up at the man, rolling his hips against Shiro in desperate motions. "I-I...fuck, _Shiro._ Can you..." He swallowed hard, the hand that had been cradling Shiro's cheek sliding down to push against his mouth. Shiro just watched Keith's expression, struggling to find air in his lungs before Keith's hand wove behind his neck, tugging him downwards toward his groin. 

The implication was clear, and Shiro's mouth was watering before he'd even begun tugging those derby shorts down Keith's slender legs. His breath caught in his throat as he revealed the fact that Keith hadn't been wearing anything underneath them or the hose, and his hardened cock was on display for Shiro to lose his mind over. He made to pull the hose gingerly down Keith's legs, but the man reached out and delivered a harsh slap to his hands that made him pull back.

"D-don't worry about that," Keith muttered, slack-jawed as he used his own hands to tear the pantyhose apart at the front seams. Shiro made a noise in the back of his throat, but he wasn't complaining. What Keith lacked in girth he made up for in length, no curve present but substituted with multiple veins showing against the pink skin. Shiro wasted no time as he bent over, gripping the base of Keith's cock in a balled fist, using the leverage to bring the head to his lips. 

"Nn _fuck,_ Shiro," Keith gasped, his hands finding home on the back of Shiro's head as he rutted up against him. Shiro took the motions in stride, parting his lips to take more of Keith into his mouth. The man chewed down on a knuckle as Shiro dragged his tongue along the underside of his cock, hallowing his cheeks as he steadily moved farther along the length, smearing the precum against the foreskin. Shiro's fingers were dipping down to Keith's balls, massaging the glands between calloused fingertips that roused a sinful, barely stifled moan from Keith's lips.

 _"Shiro,"_ Keith begged, pressing the heel of his palm against a cheekbone as he stared down at him, eyes clouded with pleasure as his hips began to tremble. "Shiro, I...I want more," he managed to spit out, taking a deep, heaving breath, the hand still resting on Shiro's head tightening its grip. Shiro was of the same mindset, but when he had Keith completely sheathed in his throat and at his mercy, making such soft and sweet noises, he was having a hard time pulling back. 

He bobbed his head instead, staring lustfully up at Keith and taking pride in the hiss that slipped past his teeth. "Shiro!" he cried out, his head lolling back against the couch, his hand balling into a fist and slamming on the cushion beside himself. "S-Shiro, I want more," he pleaded, rolling his hips punishingly up into Shiro's mouth, causing him to gag and pull away before he could manage to get away with something else. He giggled drunkenly as he fingered Keith's balls, pressing wet, sloppy kisses to the inside of Keith's thighs, relishing in the quake of his skin underneath his lips. 

"More," he echoed, running the flats of his palms along Keith's hips, sliding up into his lap before pressing another kiss to his lips. Keith groaned against him, wrapping a leg around Shiro's waist to grind on him, soft, stuttered whines slipping past his lips and into Shiro's mouth. Keith was desperate for so much more, but Shiro was just desperate for the touch. He couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten to kiss anyone, and he couldn't remember anyone this attractive willing throwing themselves at his body. Yet here he was, a gorgeous man with gold in his purple eyes tugging him down against the couch's cushions, muttering some nonsense about how he was ready to kill Shiro if he wasn't going to deliver any time soon. 

"I...I need to get the lube," Shiro panted between kisses, a noise of utter disappointment coming from the man below him. "I'll be right back," he laughed breathlessly, pressing his lips to Keith's forehead before he rolled off of him, stumbling towards his bedroom with his hands on his belt. He yanked it off once the prongs let go of the leather, tossing it towards his bed where Nina lay, thankfully, asleep. A few seconds rooting about in his bedside table rewarded him with what he was looking for, the lube he'd bought in the red bottle simply because it reminded him of Cherry. Upon closer inspection, apparently it warmed up, or something. He had half a mind to grab a condom before he was out of the room, shutting the door behind him so they wouldn't have a nasty surprise halfway through their little tryst. 

"God, Shiro, you are killing me," Keith muttered, biting down on his knuckle again, leaned back into the cushions with a leg draped over the back of the couch as he waited patiently for Shiro to slip the condom onto himself. His gaze followed every movement of Shiro's fingers, watching as he tore the foil packaging open and slipped the latex onto his own cock; hard, thick, and heavy from the lingering aftertaste in his mouth. He snapped it into place with a deep groan, something that made Keith shudder underneath him as he spread his legs out even wider, using his free hand to tug the hole in his pantyhose apart into even less of an obstacle. 

Shiro was about ready to just push into Keith already, but the erratic laugh that was breathed against his skin as he bent over him made him hesitate. "W-woah, buddy, I appreciate the enthusiam, but it's been a while, okay? At least finger fuck me before you shove that magnum in there." 

Shiro blushed, leaning back with an apologetic smile and nod. "Sorry, I just...I'm eager," he confessed, tilting his head to the side as he allowed the lube to drizzle out onto his fingers, coating nearly his entire hand in a slick veil. Keith shook his head, propping his hips up against the cushions, the leather squeaking underneath his boots as he adjusted himself. 

Shiro took a deep breath, tracing Keith's entrance and wetting it before he finally pushed in deep. Keith immediately stuttered something incomprehensible, pushing himself down against Shiro's finger until he was buried to the knuckle. He slid it in and out a few times, swirling the tip slowly to stretch Keith's tight muscles. He clutched at the couch as he squirmed, his pointy canines digging into his lip as he arched and gasped out Shiro's name, his lashes fluttering as he fought to keep a hold on himself. It encouraged Shiro to push a second finger inside, easing them both in deeper and deeper until he was nudged against Keith's prostate. 

The sharp cry that followed urged Shiro to keep going, scissoring his fingers apart until he was sure Keith was ready for the third. Shiro pushed in until he was at the knuckle again, swirling all three of his fingers slowly, rocking them in and out in gentle motions. 

"Shiro," Keith gasped, his navel dipping and his chest heaving, "I-I need more Shiro, o-okay? I'm ready now, just please..." 

Shiro nodded, slipping his fingers out of Keith's tight, velvet heat. He pushed down instead on his shoulders, watching as the man's eyes flitted up to meet his own, dark and desperate with his lips parted in a silent plea. Shiro felt a shiver rack down his spine, and he leaned down to bite into Keith's lower lip, finally pushing the head of his cock past the puckered hole he'd spent so much on time stretching and preparing. Keith's gasp was muffled against Shiro's lips, his hands clutching at the back of his thighs as he already settled into a smooth, slow rhythm of rocked hips. 

Shiro was eager to give into it, meeting Keith halfway with each thrust. "Y-you're so...fuck, you're so tight, Keith," he gasped, his words muffled against Keith's bruising lips. Every movement he made was met with a flutter of muscle around his cock that had him moving faster, drilling Keith harder into the couch as the cushions groaned for mercy. Keith gasped and cried out against his neck, his arms wrapped tight around Shiro's shoulders as his name became a mantra on the man's lips.

Keith's cock lay forgotten between them, but Shiro reached down to take it in hand and pump it firmly, the thumb of his metallic hand pressing tight against the slit and ripping a sensual moan from Keith's throat. He was hoarse, but so was Shiro, his cock impaling Keith with every heavy thrust that resulted in a loud clap of skin that echoed through the apartment. Keith's nails continued to dig into the back of his thighs, but it only encouraged Shiro to keep thrusting, to keep jerking his lover with sharp flicks of his wrist between them. 

All too soon, white hot fuzz flashed before Shiro's eyes and he was soon releasing into his orgasm, his entire body stuttering with the sensation. His thrusts slowed down into long, eloquent rocking motions of his hips that pushed in deep and firmly into Keith's ass, and it wasn't long after Shiro had come when he did, too. White hot ropes shot out between them, coating Keith's skin in the stringy fluid that stuck to Shiro's own stomach, too. 

Shiro giggled breathlessly, smothering Keith's moans against his mouth as he kissed him again, and again and again, peppering his lips all over Keith's features as they basked in their afterglow. 

"Good god," Keith laughed, turning his face to the side with a soft laugh of his own. "I just wanted to get plowed, I didn't ask for you to rot my teeth out of my skull." 

Shiro snorted, burying his face in Keith's neck, dragging his tongue along the elegant length before he pressed a kiss to one of the dark bruises he'd so lovingly left behind. Keith gasped, his body still twitching, trembling from the overstimulation. One round seemed to be the unspoken _this is good enough,_ but neither of them said a word to argue the point when Keith rolled Shiro off of the couch, moving to straddle his hips as he fell to the floor with a gleam in his eyes.


End file.
